


A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

by bottomchanyeol, krispy_kream



Series: Chenderella [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Cinderella Elements, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 22:47:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16962930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottomchanyeol/pseuds/bottomchanyeol, https://archiveofourown.org/users/krispy_kream/pseuds/krispy_kream
Summary: Jongdae just wants one dance with the crown prince, just one night where he can live out his wildest daydreams. (Lucky for him, Baekhyun is happy to play his Fairy Godmother.)- This fanwork was written for round 2 of the bottom!Chanyeol fest [2018/19].





	A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is just a pile of fluff because that is what OP ordered. I hope you like sparkles, that’s what we’ve got!!  
> Fun Fact: This story takes place in Schönbrunn palace in Vienna, Austria because that’s the only castle I’ve ever been in. It’s very beautiful, check it out if you’ve got a moment.  
> Also please look at [this beautiful art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16987527) by twitter user [Chansooyeol](https://twitter.com/chansooyeol)!!! We picked this prompt together and I knew she was gonna knock it out of the park.

“MOM,” Chanyeol’s voice booms as he barges into the small parlor where his mother and sister always take breakfast. “What is all this party prep going on when I specifically told you I didn’t need one?”

“Yeolie, you’re turning twenty,” she coos, unperturbed by the interruption. “You think I’m not going to celebrate properly?”

“You know how I feel about balls,” he whines and he floops heavily onto the chaise lounge beside her. She strokes his hair just as he hoped she would and his frustration simmers instantly. “They take so much effort to set up and I have to get all dressed up and talk to a thousand girls-”

“You’re the only one complaining about that part, Yeol,” Yoora snickers.

“It’s your birthday, Yeolie, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” his mother assures him as she continues to run her fingers lightly across his head behind his ears.

“I wouldn’t disrespect the staff like that,” he mumbles.

His mother turns back to her breakfast as if the matter is settled and Chanyeol knows it kind of is. He doesn’t really mind balls, if he’s honest. He loves talking to people, loves seeing all his friends and meeting new faces and he always has a good time. He knows he can invite whoever he wants and he will be happy to see them, it’s just. Well, it’s not enough when he really thinks about it.

The real problem with balls is that the people he’d want to attend can’t be there, not in the way he wants.

\---

Jongdae sighs dreamily, resting his chin heavily on his shepherds hook, the decorative drapes strewn about his feet temporarily forgotten.

“A ball, huh… he deserves it. We should throw him a party every day.”

“Okay lover boy,” Baekhyun says, rolling his eyes as he climbs up the ladder to reach the top of the pillar. “Leave me out of it, parties are so much work.”

“But they’re so worth it, seeing the halls sparkling as bright as our prince and seeing him dressed up to match, he _glows_ when he’s like that.”

“Tell that to my back tomorrow,” Baekhyun grumbles.

“Come on, Baekhyun,” Jongdae laughs, “Where’s your sense of romance?”

“My brand of romance involves people I can actually talk to. Now come on, I don’t have time to slack off if you’re slacking off too.”

Jongdae slumps his shoulders for show, but he’s already laughing again as he passes the drapes up to Baekhyun so he can start stringing them up across the ceiling.

Balls are a lot of work, especially when they’re only given a week’s notice and Junmyeon has a heart attack over how much there is to do in so little time, but Jongdae loves it. The whole castle buzzes with anticipation, every branch of the staff working together to put on an event that’s better than the last, to make the halls shine with elegance and light worthy of the royal family. And at the end of all that hard work, he gets to see His Highness Prince Chanyeol standing at the center, outshining all the decorations, more dashing than every guest, smiling and charming everyone in sight. Every set up Jongdae does he does with His Highness in mind, thinking about how the decorations will frame him, what backdrop will bring out his charms. And then during take down he relives each glance he caught, every laugh he heard, like each decoration has a memory hidden in it.

Okay, so he’s a little in love with the crown prince. Who wouldn’t be after seeing those bright eyes that shine like the sunlight? After experiencing the fruits of his kindness? Everyone on the staff loves Prince Chanyeol; he was directly responsible for their high pay and generous scheduling.

“His Highness wishes to take care of the those who take care of him,” Junmyeon had told them when he announced the changes. “I hope this inspires you all to repay him in kind.”

Jongdae had already been in love, but that was the day he knew he’d serve Prince Chanyeol for the rest of his life.

“Do you think he’s excited?” he can’t help but ask aloud as he and Baekhyun move their ladder to the next hook. “I can’t wait for him to see the windows, Junmyeon has really outdone himself-”

“Just get up there and hang the drapes so this party actually gets set up in time.”

\---

The ball weighs heavily on Chanyeol’s mind all day. It weighs heavier still every time he walks past the great hall and hears the ruckus of preparation, when he sees more servants scurrying about than he even knew they employed. He hates this. It feels so selfish knowing it’s because of him, that his birthday is making everyone work overtime. He understands that it’s because he’s royalty, but he’s just one man. He’s not worth all this.

“Ugh,” he groans as he flops heavily onto his bed after dinner, not even bothering to take off his coat. “Everyone is working so hard for this, I wish I could tell them to take it easy. This really doesn’t need to be that big a deal.”

Kyungsoo stands dutifully by the end of the bed, waiting patiently for Chanyeol to properly settle so he can fold his clothes up and put them away.

“It’s only because everyone respects your family so much that they’re inspired to work so hard,” he tells him.

Chanyeol grumbles at this. Their respect for his family also inspires them to stop and bow every time he approaches and makes their speech stiff and formal, trying to say only what they think he wants to hear. It’s awful. He can’t have a real conversation like that.

“Kyungsoooo,” he whines.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“How do I get the servants to be my friends?”

“All of the staff is very fond of you, Your Highness,” Kyungsoo reminds him with practiced ease.

“But I want them to be my friends!!” Chanyeol persists, flailing all his limbs and pouting petulantly in a way he trusts only Kyungsoo to put up with.

“You want everyone to be your friend.”

“Exactly!”

He’s expecting Kyungsoo to sigh in exasperation like he always does, but it never comes. Chanyeol glances up and sees his lips pressed into a thin line, thinking.

He watches and waits.

“… I have a suggestion, if you’ll permit it,” Kyungsoo finally says.

Chanyeol sits up eagerly to hear him out.

\---

“I’ll say one thing for party set up,” Baekhyun says as they wipe down the pillars in the great hall, polishing every inch of the room one last time before the event. “It sure does break up the monotony of serving dinner meetings every night.”

“Yeah, I’m sure shutting up is so hard for you,” Jongdae snickers.

“His Highness’ friends like when I talk,” Baekhyun counters. “I’ll work dinner shifts for them any day.”

Jongdae lets out an exaggerated sigh at the thought. “When will I get to serve one of his game nights again?” he laments, leaning heavily against the wall like he’s about to pass out.

“You’re banned from game night, you give shit tactical advice,” Baekhyun teases, whipping his cleaning cloth at Jongdae who bats it away halfheartedly.

“And he takes it every time like a total idiot, Baek, I love him.”

“Yeah, yeah, literally everyone knows already.”

Jongdae is debating between waxing poetic and actually standing upright to get back to work when he spies Yerim scampering towards them with half her skirts in her hands, constantly glancing back at the great hall doors whence she came.

“You aren’t going to believe what I just heard!” she exclaims when she reaches them.

Baekhyun, not one to pass up an opportunity to slack off, gives her his full attention and Jongdae is close on his heels.

“Prince Chanyeol wants to toss the whole guest list and make the ball a masquerade,” she explains, still breathless. “He said he wants rank to have nothing to do with who attends!”

“Wow, what kind of fairytale princess is our Highness, right-” Baekhyun laughs, turning to Jongdae to joke but finding him frozen.

Jongdae is still reeling. Prince Chanyeol wants rank to have nothing to do with it. It’s a party to celebrate him and he wants everyone, _anyone_ to come, as if he isn’t the second most important person in the entire kingdom. His Highness has always been generous, has always looked at everyone with the same level of respect, but this is a step further than he’s ever taken it before.

This is… tangible.

The large doors of the great hall swing open again and Junmyeon’s voice slides across the walls in his official work voice. He’s accompanied by Prince Chanyeol himself.

Everyone scrambles to line up, to stand presentable shoulder to shoulder and bow as Prince Chanyeol looks over their handiwork. He hasn’t been in to see how the preparations were going before this and there were rumors that he didn’t want a party at all, that his disinterest was fueled by reluctance. That hardly seems to be the case now. The prince looks at everything with critical intent, nodding along with Junmyeon’s explanations, but his eyes linger on the windows when he notices them. They’re tinted and littered with bits of crystals to make it look like the night sky at all times. Jongdae loves them.

Prince Chanyeol comes to a halt as he stares at them.

“These windows,” he says. “Can we get them put up in the rose parlors as well? They don’t need full decorations, but we should prepare them to receive our guests who like to feel special.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Junmyeon says easily even though he’s probably about to pop a blood vessel.

They continue through the room, finally passing where Jongdae is lined up. Jongdae keeps his eyes trained steadily on the floor until he sees the prince’s polished boots pass him, his heart pounding, mind still reeling from the news. He can’t help but glance up as soon as they step past him, way sooner than he really should, to watch Prince Chanyeol’s broad retreating back like he always does.

When he looks up, Prince Chanyeol is also glancing back at him.

Their eyes catch and it sends a jolt all the way down Jongdae’s spine. He should turn away, drop his eyes, but there’s something in the prince’s expression that holds his gaze. There’s something wistful, something longing in the way he looks at the staff, in the way he looks at _Jongdae_. When he realizes that they’re looking at each other it is the prince who flushes and hastily turns back around, the prince who stammers over his words and his feet as he and Junmyeon cross the great hall and leave through the opposite door.

Jongdae watches him go, transfixed. Something blooms in his chest and he doesn’t want to call it hope, but what else could it all mean? The guest list, his sudden involvement, the look they shared, it’s paralyzed him. He stares at the door Prince Chanyeol left from for a long moment even as the others around him start to buzz with excitement, already divvying up the work they know is coming. Jongdae can’t hear anything but the ache in his heart and the ringing in his head insisting that this is _important._

“… I have to go to this ball,” he finally says. “I have to at least ask him to dance.”

Baekhyun looks him up and down, a soft smile spreading across his lips.

“Go then.”

It actually surprises him that someone answers, that he spoke out loud at all, and Jongdae forces himself back down to earth with a self deprecating laugh.

“I don’t know how, we’re gonna have the whole staff working this,” Jongdae reminds him, reminds himself honestly.

“I’ll cover for you,” Baekhyun says with an easy shrug.

“Pfft, and who is gonna cover for you?”

“You think I was gonna do work while you were around to do it for me?”

Jongdae rolls his eyes.

“Jongdae. You’re in love with him. You’re gonna regret it forever if you don’t take this chance.”

Baekhyun has never been more right about something in his life. Jongdae swallows hard. He already sort of regrets how easily he nearly gave up. He doesn’t know how he’ll live with himself if he doesn’t do this.

“... Okay,” he makes himself say, trying to get used to the feeling of how nuts this is. “Okay, what the fuck am I gonna wear.”

Baekhyun grins at him, big and boxy and full of teeth and mischief.

“Just call me your fairy godmother,” he assures him.

\---

“You are going to get me beheaded,” Jongdae hisses and Baekhyun leads him down the halls of the east wing towards the resident suites. It’s not that he’s never been down this way, it’s just that he’s usually using a very different hallway for a very different purpose.

“Relax,” Baekhyun says with a wave. “Minseok loves when I visit, he’ll be happy to help you out.”

“He’s the _chancellor_ , Baekhyun, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into?” he tries not to yell, but he’s not exactly on familiar terms with any government officials and he certainly doesn’t understand how castle staff gets to be buddies with the second in command to the king.

There’s a spring in Baekhyun’s step as he doesn’t answer and it really does nothing to make Jongdae less nervous. Neither of them own anything remotely fancy enough for an occasion like ‘dancing with the crown prince’ but Baekhyun had been quick to suggest that Jongdae borrow an outfit from a “friend.” Jongdae thinks maybe Baekhyun's definitions could use some refinement.

Baekhyun’s grin only gets bigger as he squares up to a door at last, knocking sharply and calling out, “Your Excellency,” with a cheeky expression as if it were some kind of joke.

“Enter,” comes the curt reply and Jongdae mentally prepares himself for death.

Chancellor Minseok is set up at the desk of his personal parlor, pouring over a document with sharp eyes that look like they could bore holes in the paper, his expression as severe as it always is when Jongdae has occasion to see him. But then the door clicks behind them and the chancellor looks up. His eyes go wide, not unlike a cat, and the sight of them makes a grin spread across his face.

“Baekhyun,” he practically purrs. “Always a pleasure.”

“And you’re as radiant as ever, Minseok,” Baekhyun says as he bounds across the room to him. “You’re not busy, are you?”

“I’m never too busy for my favorite assistant. What can I do for you?”

Baekhyun wastes no time. “This is my best friend, Jongdae,” he says, motioning to the door where Jongdae is still trying to wrap his head around their familiarity. “He needs to dance with His Highness at the ball but all our clothes suck.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Minseok, _the chancellor_ , chuckles. Then his sharp eyes turn to Jongdae to look him up and down.

“Jongdae, was it?” he asks, his grin shifting into something calculating. “And why do you need to dance with our prince?”

They’re both looking at him, Baekhyun a little expectantly like maybe he’s trying to be encouraging but it just feels like Jongdae is staring into a lion’s den. He takes a deep breath.

“Because I’m in love with him, Your Excellency.”

Minseok’s eyes narrow, like he’s tucking the information away into a hundred different schemes, but Baekhyun is just grinning beside him. Jongdae tries not to squirm in the moment of quiet that feels longer than the second it actually lasts before Minseok’s easy demeanor returns.

“An excellent cause, count me in!” he says as he jumps out of his chair and strides across the room to head deeper into the suite. “Let’s see what we have.”

Chancellor Minseok has several wardrobes, more than most in Jongdae’s experience, and he systematically opens every one regardless of the contents. He has one that’s nothing but dark dress coats, one with every style of shirt imaginable, one with a hodgepodge of outdoor wear, and one for capes and accessories. It feels like a ludicrous amount of clothes compared to the meager number of shirts and pants Jongdae has stuffed into his trunk, but then government officials have far more occasions to dress up for than castle staff. Baekhyun is already rummaging through the accessories, but Jongdae has no idea where to start.

“Ah, the real fancy stuff is over here,” Minseok mumbles as he heads for his smallest closet. “What kind of look were you going for?”

“I don’t know?” Jongdae says helplessly. He didn’t even think he was going to the ball an hour ago, he hasn’t had time to think this far ahead.

“C’mooon, Jongdae,” Baekhyun whines, his head thrown back. “Don’t get timid on us now, if you’re gonna do this you gotta go all out!”

Easy for him to say. Jongdae has seen enough balls to last a lifetime but everyone dresses so differently for each one it’s like they’re following some set of secret rules. He is a man with a uniform, he’s never had to… say something with his clothes before.

“I just want him to see me,” he finally says. “I want to stand out when he meets me so when he thinks back on this party he’ll remember there’s someone who cares. That’s all I need.”

Baekhyun stares at him. “Sounds fake, but okay.”

But Minseok is looking at him with narrow eyes again, a cat ready to pounce, and he drums his fingers against his chin for only a moment before he turns and throws open his last wardrobe.

“I know exactly what you need.”

He pulls out a blue and silver tailcoat that _sparkles_. It literally sparkles, every inch of fabric shimmers like glitter and the lapels are encrusted with what can only be real diamonds. Even in the low evening light, the coat glows like the full moon.

It’s ridiculous.

“This is a costume,” Jongdae tells him.

“You want to be remembered, isn’t that what you said?” Minseok reminds him, his brow high as he lays the coat out and moves on to search for pants. “You are going to shine brighter than a chandelier at Christmas.”

Baekhyun is grinning at him with a slant that says _I told you so_ and Jongdae sighs as he finally steps forward to start poking at the shirts.

\---

Accommodating for the expanded guest list has the whole staff working overtime to scramble everything together. They’re decorating extra rooms for guest overflow, prepping the courtyard for outside vendors and musicians, _finding_ vendors and musicians, it’s almost a complete mess. But the staff has the motivation to put the work in; more than an a few of their colleagues have plans to sneak away and attend the ball like Jongdae and it almost feels like the full staff is needed for the event specifically because Junmyeon anticipates that not everyone will be present the whole night.

The party is already underway by the time Jongdae and Baekhyun have a chance to slip away to get him ready. There’s not time for any fancy makeup aside from swooping Jongdae’s hair back away from his forehead. He doesn’t normally like doing it up like this, but that’s precisely why they do it. Jongdae insists that the harder he is to recognize, the better. Baekhyun helps him get dressed because, as often as they both help others get dressed, neither of them know how to put all these coats and medals and cufflinks on themselves. Minseok lent them enough accessories to make Jongdae pass for a high ranking official and every extra piece feels like a weight. It’s no wonder people stand up so straight at these types of functions, Jongdae thinks he might topple over if he lets himself slouch.

They finish off the outfit with a mask that Minseok had custom made to match the jacket in the same light blue and outlined in crystals. Jongdae feels like he’s trying to impersonate a gem mine, but Baekhyun assures him he looks “radiant.”

“Remember roll call is at midnight, Jongdae.” Baekhyun tells him, his hands firm on Jongdae’s shoulders. “You gotta at least show up.”

Jongdae nods.

“We were all invited. You belong there. Act like it.”

“Right,” Jongdae says and nods again.

“You are a handsome and charming man, Kim Jongdae,” Baekhyun says with some finality, slapping Jongdae’s arm and taking a small step back. “Now get out there and kiss that prince on the mouth!”

Jongdae breaks out into a laugh and somehow all his nerves evaporate, the tension in his shoulders dissipating and the pounding of his heart morphing into a pleasant excitement. He doesn’t know how Baekhyun does it, but he always knows exactly what to do to put Jongdae at ease when he needs it most.

He smiles, warm and wide, and engulfs Baekhyun into a fierce hug.

“Thank you, Baek.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Baekhyun mumbles, always too shy to take the affection he usually doles out. “Just go give your boy a kiss, I’m serious about this, none of that ‘I just want a dance’ nonsense.”

Jongdae laughs again as he finally lets go and Baekhyun continues his pep talk as they walk together through the hall to the ball.

\---

Jongdae bypasses the crowds and the lines by using the servant’s hallways to reach the great hall, sneaking in through the oval cabinet that connects to the main ballroom in the back corner.

He turns heads immediately, which is no surprise seeing as his outfit outshines even the most ornate ball gown. He lets them look, thinks of Baekhyun’s compliments and Minseok’s calm confidence and decides to channel those rather than his own insecurities. More than a few glances look him up and down with something like approval and Jongdae smiles at them, making them flush and hide behind their fans and their dance cards. Yes, perhaps this outfit was the right choice, he hopes he runs into the chancellor so he can tell him so.

The light is slightly dimmer on this side of the room, and it makes the ornaments on the windows stand out even more, as if the sky itself is the only thing lining the walls. Jongdae imagines he looks like one of those fake stars, come to grace this party with his presence. There’s an odd sort of pleasure in that, in picturing himself as the star of the night rather than a prop in the background as he normally is. It ignites a confidence in him that Jongdae is all too happy to indulge for this particular occasion.

When he finally turns to look into the center of the great hall, he sees Prince Chanyeol looking at him as if he is every star in the sky. He must paint quite the picture, the light reflecting off the diamonds of his coat making the light fabric stand out against the dim light, shining in front of a backdrop of starry skies. Chanyeol turns away quickly, his face flushing in a way that is easily discernible compared to the pristine white of his dress coat. He looks divine himself, his military style coat freshly pressed and looking smart with its red accents and matching red and white mask. And perhaps because it is his party, or perhaps because his height gives him away, he's set his perfunctory masquerade mask up on his forehead so that it shows his beautiful brow and darling cheeks while mussing up his carefully styled hair. He looks just as bewildered as the rest of the room as he glances back at Jongdae, but his eyes sparkle with interest.

Then his eyes dart away again, his ears giving away how his face is still flushed. Jongdae chuckles to himself and lets him dodge for now; he can tell the prince is keeping him in the corner of his eyes. He'll let the mystery stew before he strikes, use the time to build the suspense and perhaps gather his nerves. Besides, this is Jongdae's first time attending a ball. He's got to see it all.

The horderves are divine when they're fresh and the guests offer him plenty of attention thanks to the decorations Minseok lent him, the medals on his chest and chords lining his shoulders painting him in a much richer light than many of the guests themselves. It's like a whole new world, completely different from the view behind a serving tray with his plain uniform making him practically invisible.

He calls himself a friend of the chancellor to anyone who asks, and the theme of the night lets him get away without having to elaborate much further. It's not too far from the truth at this point, and Minseok's enthusiasm for the cause makes it feel like it's only a matter of time before they are more familiar with each other (certainly Baekhyun will see to that). It's just a shame that he doesn't see Minseok anywhere around the hall yet, he'd wanted to show him the finished product. He'll have to send his thanks with Baekhyun when they switch places later on in the night.

Prince Chanyeol is always at the edge of his sight, just a few feet away or at the opposite wall, and more than once he catches Chanyeol's eyes as they glance at each other. Everytime Chanyeol jolts and turns away like he's been caught with a cookie in his mouth and Jongdae can't help but grin every time it happens, even while conversing with other guests. They know it's the prince he keeps glancing at and no one can fault him for his distraction. Every time it happens his heart swells with affection, and there's no room left over for the nerves that could have otherwise overtaken him.

He bids adieu to a count and his opera singing wife who had approached him to ask if his clothes marked him as a performer. Jongdae really wants to use that line to rub it in Minseok's face that he's dressed in a costume, but the thought is whisked away when suddenly someone is speaking to him from behind.

“You’re the star of the ball and you’ve only just arrived, my lord,” a woman tells him.

Jongdae jumps. She’d come from the direction the prince is standing in, and since he’s been making sure not to look that way over much he hadn’t been able to see her coming. Her smile is curved like she expected that, like she timed her approached specifically to surprise him.

“Beg your pardon?”

“There’s no use playing coy with me,” she says with her fan propped against her chin. “You’re dressed up like the centerpiece of yuletide, you can’t expect me to believe that’s not on purpose.”

“I’m only dressed how I feel is appropriate for the occasion, my lady,” Jongdae says, his voice holding surprisingly steady considering how hastily he came up with the excuse.

“The occasion of a prince’s birthday,” she clarifies.

“A very specific prince, in my case.”

“Well,” she glances over her shoulder pointedly, and Jongdae follows her gaze.

Chanyeol is looking at him again. Jongdae’s heart aches with want.

“You may as well stop playing games, we all know why you’re here,” she finally says, catching Jongdae’s eyes with a smile. Her eyes sparkle with mischief, but it is playful, encouraging.

Jongdae opens his mouth to answer, but his breath catches as he realizes who he’s been speaking too. The family resemblance is always striking when they smile so wide.

“You make a fair point,” he finally says with a laugh. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Your Highness.”

Princess Yoora looks pleased at the recognition, but it’s probably telling that Jongdae needed a moment to recognize her at all. He’s never had the opportunity to work for her and it’s outed him as someone outside the political circle. But she steps aside regardless, not bothering with any sort of curtsy, and now there is no one of consequence between him and the crown prince.

Prince Chanyeol has turned his back, maybe to keep himself from glancing at his sister with Jongdae, and Jongdae can see how he fidgets, his ears red, dying to know what’s happening. Perhaps Princess Yoora is right, perhaps Jongdae has left him to stew for long enough. Perhaps they’re both ready now.

The crowd between Prince Chanyeol and himself is still mostly parted from when the princess crossed the room and when they see that Jongdae is the one pushing between them at last, they let him pass easily. Jongdae moves as if caught in a trance, as if the world has fallen away and the only people left are them two, the only thing left to do is to make his dreams come true. Jongdae catches the attention of whoever Prince Chanyeol is conversing with and as her eyes stray, so do Chanyeol's. He turns to see the disturbance and falters as his eyes lock on Jongdae's.

He doesn't turn away this time. It's like he's trapped by Jongdae's eyes and his presence and Jongdae smiles at him, his heart warm, his mind at ease.

“I,” Prince Chanyeol tries to say, but is immediately at a loss.

It feels like a dream and Jongdae decides he will treat it as such.

“May I have this dance, Your Highness?” Jongdae asks, just like he’s always wanted to.

He doesn’t think about how he is shit at dancing as Prince Chanyeol places his hand in his and strides out onto the dance floor with him, still somehow entranced by his presence. It’s obvious that Prince Chanyeol doesn’t really know how to follow as he flounders for a moment when Jongdae reaches behind to hold them together, so they are on equal footing in that respect. Jongdae can’t help but laugh at himself as he makes up some steps that at least follow the rhythm of the song. It must be infectious, because Prince Chanyeol also laughs as he tries to follow along, taking more steps than he needs to keep up, tiny shuffles that keep their bodies close and their smiles wide.

It’s several movements before they both figure out what they’re doing enough to have time to actually look at each other and Jongdae finds the prince looking at him with such intent, his eyes seeming to search for something in what little he can see of Jongdae’s face.

“Thank you for coming,” Chanyeol says after a moment.

“I was honored by the invitation,” Jongdae tells him.

Prince Chanyeol falters again, still hesitating over whatever it is he’s looking for.

“Are you--you seem familiar, have we met?”

This is the one thing, the thing that will shatter his facade and his confidence if he lets it; he’s not a servant tonight, he doesn’t want Prince Chanyeol to know he’s just a part of the castle staff, and so he smiles to hide it.

“You’re the one who made this ball a masquerade, Your Highness,” he says with a cheeky grin. “You should know better than to ask that.”

Prince Chanyeol practically wilts. “I made a mistake, I regret everything, the mystery will haunt me for the rest of my days,” he whines.

Jongdae can’t suppress a laugh. As if he weren’t smitten enough, seeing His Highness pout up close is so endearing it makes him want to coo at him and run his fingers through Prince Chanyeol’s fluffy hair.

“Don’t say that, we were all excited when we heard,” Jongdae tells him.

“We?” Chanyeol asks with a tilt to his head, perking up at the clue.

He misspoke just now, disarmed by his affection, but there’s no judgement in Prince Chanyeol’s eyes as he waits for an answer and perhaps, with Prince Chanyeol, Jongdae can let himself slip now and then.

“Your subjects of little standing, Your Highness,” Jongdae admits, and still there is no judgement from Prince Chanyeol, only interest. “Have you seen the crowd that’s come to celebrate you?”

“No…” he says, and their dance stops, the other couples on the floor forced to maneuver around them as Chanyeol turns his gaze towards the windows and the courtyard. “Are they truly excited to be here?”

There’s something there in the distant haze of his eyes, something familiar, longing and almost lonely that Jongdae recognizes from when their eyes met in the great hall a scant few days prior.

Prince Chanyeol invited everyone on purpose, Jongdae’s mind reminds him. He wants them to be there, the common people with whom he never truly gets to meet.

“Come,” Jongdae says suddenly, stepping back to take both of Prince Chanyeol’s hands in his. “Let me show you. It’s your party, you should see every part of it.”

Prince Chanyeol’s eyes light up like the sunrise and he nods quickly, eager to follow where Jongdae leads.

They dash from the ballroom hand in hand, Prince Chanyeol practically giggling in delight as they push past guests, squeezing between conversations and darting around dancers in their haste to get outside. They end up on the stairs overlooking the front drive and Prince Chanyeol stops to gape at the splendor, a completely different kind from what he’s used to.

The lot is filled to the brim with people from all walks of life, milling together and dancing in haphazard clumps, the buzz of chatter and laughter floating above the music. Food stalls line the yard, and a raised platform hosts musicians on opposite corners so that music reaches the people no matter where they stand.

This is the sort of festival Jongdae is used to attending, but it’s clear that Prince Chanyeol has never had the chance. His eyes sparkle as he tries to take everything in, leaning over the stair railing like an excited child.

“Incredible,” he murmurs, almost too quiet to be heard over the din. “And to think I nearly spent my whole birthday inside.”

“We should put your mask on properly, Your Highness,” Jongdae suggests. “I think there’s quite a few people down there who won’t recognize you.”

“Perfect,” Prince Chanyeol says, reaching up to settle his mask over his eyes. “That means no calling me ‘Your Highness’ either.”

Jongdae finally falters for a moment.

“Oh. Chanyeol, then?” Jongdae says warily and he finds the name tastes like rich chocolate on his tongue.

Chanyeol grins, delighted and mischievous and altogether too dangerous.

“I like the sound of that,” he says. “What can I call you? I know you want to follow stingy masquerade rules, but I need to call you something.”

“... Chen.” Jongdae decides after a moment. It’s actually the name of his father’s dog, but Chanyeol doesn’t need to know that.

“Chen,” Chanyeol repeats, taking Jongdae’s hand once more and smiling with more warmth than a dog’s silly name warrants. “Will you show me around, Chen?”

Jongdae looks at their clasped hands for a moment, suddenly unsure of where the night is heading. This wasn't part of his plan nor part of his dream, but His Highness--Chanyeol is looking at him so expectantly, unwilling to take on the festivities without Jongdae at his side. It reminds him of the first time he worked with Baekhyun, the first time they goofed around, the moment he knew they would get along just fine. It's that same energy now, that thrill, that excitement.

Jongdae's smile shifts. Mischievous. Excited.

It matches Chanyeol's perfectly.

They finally descend the stairs in a giggling rush, scampering down like school children hand in hand. Chanyeol doesn't even know where to begin, his eyes are everywhere. "What's that smell?" "We're so overdressed." "Do you know this dance? Teach me!"

"Let's work up an appetite, your-- Chanyeol," Jongdae tells him as he tugs him towards the crowd that dances before one of the bands.

"I don't know this dance," Chanyeol tries to say, but he doesn't resist in the slightest.

"It's better that way."

Jongdae takes both of Chanyeol's hands, bounces the rhythm between them for a bar or two, then they're off, bounding into the crowd with a leaping sidestep at a frantic pace. Chanyeol shouts as they dive in, as Jongdae leads him between notes and over beats and it's like he can't stop shouting as he tries to keep up, can't stop laughing as he stumbles and jumps and finally catches on just in time for Jongdae to shift their direction and then they're stumbling over each other all over again.

Jongdae is definitely doing it on purpose. Chanyeol doesn't look like he minds in the slightest.

Chanyeol can only last the one song before he looks out of breath, hunched over trying to breathe between the laughter that just won't quit. Jongdae is sure he's never had more fun dragging someone through a polka, and he's sure it wouldn't have worked half so well with anyone other than Chanyeol, his precious Chanyeol who sees joy in all things, who values the interests of everyone around him. It's magnetic, it makes Jongdae want to step in close, makes him never want to let go of Chanyeol's hands.

And Chanyeol holds his hands so tightly, he doesn't think he could let go if he tried.

They walk up and down the stalls, Chanyeol walking so slowly to get a good look at every one and Jongdae content to explain them all. Their hands are still clasped as if they're afraid they'll lose each other if they let go for even a moment, or perhaps just because it feels good to hold someone close. Chanyeol can't stop squeezing Jongdae's hand, flashing a smile at Jongdae every time something lights up his face. Jongdae knows he will never tire of that smile.

They’re passing a skewer between them, Chanyeol moaning at the taste with every bite. He leaves the final piece for Jongdae, sighing like it was the most satisfying meal he’s ever had.

“Are street festivals all this fantastic? Do you get to do this all the time? I’m so jealous,” Chanyeol says, his eyes still roving over the crowd to take everything in.

Jongdae laughs. “And yet, the line to see the ball extends out past the street. Is this what they mean about the grass always being greener on the other side?”

“Maybe that’s all it is,” Chanyeol relents with a bashful chuckle. “I do enjoy balls, but there’s just so much more room to _breathe_ out here.”

He isn’t talking about physical space (the courtyard is far more crowded than the great hall). What he means is written clearly in the lines of his face, in every muscle of his body; he’s relaxed, freely himself without the weight of expectation. This is bigger than having Jongdae at his side, but it is Jongdae’s honor alone to see him like this, to see the real face of the crown prince who everyone has gathered to celebrate.

“I will gladly take you to a hundred festivals if it means I can see you like this again. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you so happy.”

Instead of answering, Chanyeol just sort of.. stares for a moment, his eyes trapped in Jongdae’s and he looks so blissfully smitten.

“It’s your smile that could outshine the moon,” he says, his words soft, meant only for Jongdae.

Jongdae smiles at him, matches his gaze with an expression he knows looks just as smitten because he is.

“Chanyeol, don’t you know?” he says, stepping in close so that he knows the words are for him alone. “The moon can only shine thanks to the light of the sun.”

Chanyeol smiles lightly at him, flustered. Jongdae wonders if no one has ever told him that before and if they're blind for not seeing it.

"Do you really think that?" he asks in a small voice, almost hard to hear over the din of the festival.

"It's what drew me to you in the first place," Jongdae assures him. He raises a hand to cup Chanyeol's cheek and he leans into the touch, sighs into like the affection is more filling than their snacks. Jongdae will gladly offer up as much as he needs.

"Dance with me?" he says.

Chanyeol's smile lights up, his eyes sparkling with energy again and they step apart just the barest inch, just enough to let them walk towards another group of musicians to join another group of dancers.

Chanyeol is shining, and it lights up the whole pavilion.

The dance on this side of the courtyard is slower, though still nothing compared to the formal restraint of the ballroom. Chanyeol has enough time to keep up with the steps, and rather than laughing at themselves as they try desperately to keep up, it is simply the perfect excuse to hold each other close, to feel the weight Chanyeol's hand in his, to see how his happiness shines through the mask so that everyone can see.

Jongdae is really here, seeing Chanyeol so close, feeling the warmth radiating from him. The willingness with which Chanyeol follows his lead threatens to make him greedy. He holds him closer than the dance truly calls for and looks into Chanyeol’s eyes rather than watching for other dancers but Chanyeol can barely spare a glance to anyone they collide with. Chanyeol lets himself be pulled closer and looks into Jongdae’s eyes like there’s nothing else around them. It makes Jongdae want him all to himself.

They only last a few songs like this, caught up in each other’s company, trying to keep up with the dances and getting in the way of every other couple. The space between songs is the most electric, neither of them willing to give up even an inch between them, nothing to distract them from each other, Chanyeol having too much time to glance down at Jongdae’s mouth…

Jongdae licks his lips.

“Let’s,” Chanyeol stutters, unable to tear his eyes away, “Let’s get some air.”

Jongdae can’t help but laugh, if only because that keeps him from saying anything dangerously forward. He nods and finally tears himself away from Chanyeol’s hold. He takes Chanyeol’s hand tightly in his and drags him away from the dance and the festival at a run, darting past guards who recognize Chanyeol instantly to slip through the outdoor halls that lead to the gardens behind the palace. They’re laughing again like boys who have successfully caused all their mischief and are escaping out of sight.

Chanyeol takes the lead when they’ve reached the darkness of the gardens and steers them into the short end of the hedge maze, taking the path that quickly leads them to the gazebo at the center. He wrenches the mask from his face and rubs at his temples in giant, exaggerated motions, scrunching up his cheeks and his eyes before dragging both hands through his hair and destroying the final vestiges of its previous style. His grin is still wide and lopsided like he doesn’t even know he’s smiling, like there’s no helping it, and he turns to Jongdae with such a twinkle in his eyes that it makes Jongdae’s heart soar.

He is just a man with a heart that is too big for his body. Just a man, stepping up to Jongdae and taking his hands. Just a man that Jongdae loves more than anything else in this world.

“Now here is a man enjoying his birthday,” Jongdae observes with a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“We’re hardly at the party now,” Chanyeol points out, reaching up to trace Jongdae’s mask and brush his fingers against his temple. “Can’t we take off your mask?”

Jongdae would really like to, honestly; the tie is squeezing his head, the bridge of his nose is being crushed, and it feels like his sweat has permanently glued it to his face. But he can’t risk it. The night has been perfect, his image pristine in its mystery. This is what he intended.

He wraps his fingers around Chanyeol’s hand and leans into the touch, smiling up at him. “I’m grateful for this mask,” he tells him. “It’s thanks to it and your gentle heart that I was able to come and ask you to dance.”

“At least it shows me your smile,” Chanyeol says, even as his own dims with disappointment. His eyes rove over Jongdae’s face like he’s searching for something again. “Would that I could see the whole picture…”

Something still and silent passes between them, even as the din of the festival continues. They are both so close, so wanting; Chanyeol wanting to be whisked away and Jongdae wanting to be the one to do it. He wants to do everything for Chanyeol.

Jongdae snakes his free hand up and cups his fingers behind Chanyeol’s neck to tilt him downward and Chanyeol follows easily, his eyes already fluttering shut, his breath tripping over his anticipation. Jongdae catches his lips in a kiss that tastes of sweet bread and stars, of gentleness and desire, every bit as addicting as it is forbidden. Chanyeol kisses back with something like reverence, with hope and want, affection the likes of which Jongdae has never felt before. And perhaps it should trouble him, that Chanyeol could kiss a stranger like this, that anyone could have swept Chanyeol off his feet. But Jongdae is the one who did, Jongdae is the one here, kissing Chanyeol in the gardens of the palace. Jongdae is the one Chanyeol is holding close this night.

Their lips slide apart with some reluctance and their breath dances together in the air between them. Chanyeol cups Jongdae’s cheek and rubs his thumb against his skin. His eyes search Jongdae’s the same way they have all night. If they get any closer Jongdae fears Chanyeol will see right through him.

“Chen…” he whispers as if in awe. “I’m sure I know you, won’t you tell me?”

“The less you know about me the better,” Jongdae admits, finally stepping back, darting his eyes away to keep from being caught.

“Why do you think that?” Chanyeol asks. He catches Jongdae’s hands again to keep him from putting any more space between them. “What is it you feel you have to hide?”

“It’d be a disgrace to be seen with me, Your Highness, I’m not worthy.”

Chanyeol’s grip on his hands tighten, tugging him back in and refusing to let him go.

“That’s not yours to decide. Your station does not determine your worth, your heart does,” he says, his voice low. Then he runs his fingers along the edge of Jongdae’s mask once more. “Let me prove it to you.”

He shouldn’t, he _can’t_ , he doesn’t want Chanyeol to know he’s just castle staff, he doesn’t want them both to have to wallow in the helplessness of this affair, to think of what could be every time they cross paths. But the way Chanyeol still looks a him, even after what Jongdae has let slip, like Jongdae is the only one concerned that Chanyeol is the prince, like such a monumental fact means nothing to Chanyeol, he can’t help but hope. He can’t help wanting to be seen, to have Chanyeol call his name, know it’s _Jongdae_ who loves him.

He can’t even breath as he reaches up with shaky fingers, ready to push his mask up and off his face.

In the distance, a bell tolls.

“Fuck!” Jongdae jerks back with a gasp. “Shit, it’s--I have to go!”

He doesn’t have time to think about parting words as the chimes count their way to midnight. He doesn’t have time to hesitate or dislodge himself gracefully or let his hands linger in Chanyeol’s. He doesn’t even give Chanyeol time to call after him as he darts off towards the palace, disappearing like a thief in the night, the taste of the prince’s lips his only spoil.

Jongdae brings a hand to his mouth as he charges through the servants halls to get back to his room and change his coat. God, what had he been thinking, kissing the crown prince like that? He’d let himself go too far, had nearly tarnished everything by revealing himself. The aftertaste of their kiss sours with every passing second, so tantalizingly close to everything Jongdae wants but in reality still so far.

He forcibly stops his train of thought before it can spiral away from him. His party is over and there’s work to be done.

\---

Junmyeon stares curiously at his roster, pausing on his way down the line when he reaches Jongdae’s name but finds Baekhyun instead.

Baekhyun is never the one accounted for at roll call. He’s never bouncing on the balls of his feet like he’s eager to get back to work like this either. Something curious is happening.

“… Where is Jongdae?” he finally asks, turning about the room to see if he’s just hiding. He doesn’t find Jongdae but he does see Kyungsoo stroll in with a handful of empty glasses. “Oh, Kyungsoo, you didn’t have to check in.”

Kyungsoo shrugs but a smile plays at his lips like he’s hiding some kind of joke.

“His Highness is otherwise occupied for now,” is all he says.

“Hm. Well, I appreciate the help,” Junmyeon tells him, then turns back to Baekhyun. “I never thought I’d say this Baekhyun, but I need you to find Jongdae for me and remind him to check in.”

“I’m here!” comes Jongdae’s shout and then he is bursting into the room, still putting on his jacket and his hair tousled in disarray.

“Sorry,” he says breathlessly, lining up next to Baekhyun like they always do. “There was a mess at the stairs, but it’s all taken care of now.”

“A mess? I didn’t hear-”

“It was just now!” Jongdae cuts in desperately. “It just happened and just got cleaned up, so no need to worry about it.”

“If you insist...” Junmyeon says, eyeing his appearance for a moment. “Brush your hair before you go back out there.”

“Right, yes, sorry,” Jongdae says, sounding as frazzled as he looks.

Junmyeon moves on and Baekhyun eyes Jongdae.

“... Should I let you get back to it?” he asks, bordering between concern and smug.

“No,” Jongdae answers with a shaky laugh. “No, I’m… it’s fine, I’m good.”

Baekhyun looks at him as if he doesn’t believe that for a second, but he says nothing.

“You should go,” he continues, reaching into his jacket to retrieve the mask and pass it to Baekhyun. “Ask the chancellor to dance for me, tell him thank you.”

Baekhyun glances down at the mask in his hands then back up at Jongdae. There’s something curious in the way he looks at him, something considering. He bites his lip, but then he nods and slips the mask into his own coat pocket.

“Okay, if you’re sure.” Then his trademark grin is back in place. “Let’s get you cleaned up, you look like you’re dying.”

“Not as much as you are from actually having to work, I bet!”

The normalcy of the banter helps to calm his racing heart that his mad dash could not. It makes the last few hours feel like a fever dream, a situation cooked up by his imagination. It’s calming to fall back into the rhythm of working, the familiar scene of a ball from behind a serving tray, with none the wiser of how close he had nearly flown to the sun. Baekhyun doesn’t ask for details for now and Jongdae doesn’t offer any and all feels like it should once more.

Neither pay any mind to how Kyungsoo’s eyes follow as they leave.

\---

Chanyeol feels as though he spent the rest of the evening looking for Chen, even when he knew he probably wouldn’t find him. He just couldn’t help but turn to look every time he caught a gleam of jewels or a flash of light clothes in the corner of his eyes. He had seen someone in the same mask talking with the chancellor, and his heart had seized in his chest for a moment thinking he’d found him. But the laugh was all wrong, familiar from somewhere else that didn’t matter in that moment. He just wanted to see Chen again, to hold his hands and dance with him, to feel loved as a person rather than as a prince.

But it was not to be. Chanyeol sighs dreamily as he recalls what time they did have together, leaning heavy on Kyungsoo’s shoulder as the coming morning catches up with him.

“Did you see the way he smiled, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol whines. “It was like starlight and goodness and…”

“It was very charming,” Kyungsoo agrees noncommittally.

Chanyeol doesn’t care if he’s paying attention. He sighs again.

“He swept me off my feet…”

“He was half your size.”

“That’s just how charming he was!”

They make it back to Chanyeol’s chambers with minimal difficulty and Chanyeol immediately flops backwards onto his bed as Kyungsoo busies himself prepping things to get him ready for sleep. Chanyeol stares up at the canopy of his bed and finally lets himself think on what had truly been troubling him all night.

“He said… he said he was beneath me.”

Kyungsoo stops.

“I hate that,” Chanyeol continues. “I hate that people see it that way and he. He believed it so strongly. It was sad. I’m sad, Kyungsooooo.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and gets back to work.

\---

It only takes a few days to do party breakdown and fix their sleeping schedules and then things are back to normal for Jongdae. He’d returned the dress coat, slowly coming to terms with his new unlikely friendship, but the chancellor hadn’t let Jongdae return the mask.

“I had it made for you,” Chancellor Minseok had explained with an oddly soft smile. “It’s yours.”

It makes him feel… complicated to look at it. The memories that come with it are complicated. He appreciates the gesture, but he hides the mask at the bottom of his trunk, hidden from him and anyone who might come across it. It’s the only thing left that proves anything happened at all.

At least it’s easy to face Chanyeol because he isn’t supposed to. When they cross paths Jongdae diligently turns his eyes to the floor and he stays like that, staring hard at the tiles beneath him rather than glancing up like he always used to. And there’s an odd sort of loneliness in that, in maintaining that divide, in smothering his flights of fancy. But he’s had his fun. He said one dance was all he needed and he meant that.

But Kyungsoo _stares_ at him every time they are in the same room.

It’s a pointed stare. A stare that sees right through him and, in classic Kyungsoo fashion, Jongdae has no idea what he’s thinking. It’s worse when he’s with His Highness; Kyungsoo glances between the two of them like he’s searching for some connection, waiting for one of them to slip. The scrutiny makes Jongdae break into a sweat every time.

Jongdae collapses onto the table he’s supposed to be moving as they rearrange the walnut room, Kyungsoo having just stopped by to deliver yet another setup specification. It’s particularly torturous when he has to _talk_ to Kyungsoo.

“That man is totally onto me,” Jongdae whines. “He’s gonna tell His Highness!”

Baekhyun drops into the plush back chair as soon as he sets it down where it goes.

“Why is that a bad thing?” he asks with a laugh. “If you ask me, the only thing better than one fairy tale night with a crown prince, it’s more than one fairy tale night with said prince.”

“I was disguised on purpose, Baekhyun, I don’t want His Highness to know who I am.”

“I still think that’s dumb,” Baekhyun tells him again. “The disguise was just to get you in the door, you could have told him when you were alone-”

“I can’t, okay?” Jongdae cuts him off with a huff. “It’s not gonna fucking work, I don’t want to deal with it.”

He hoists himself up off his table and staunchly gets back to work. Baekhyun watches him in silence for a moment before sighing heavily as if disappointed. But Baekhyun was never one to let things drop when others wanted him to.

“So little faith you have in His Highness,” he mumbles as he rolls off the chair.

“It’s not His Highness I have no faith in.”

Baekhyun hums. “I guess he has more risk associated with him than others. But maybe your feelings are stronger than others. Maybe he’s worth it.”

Jongdae sets the table down heavily in it’s spot, but the clamor isn’t enough to drown out the echo of Baekhyun’s words in his head.

\---

Enough time passes that Jongdae thinks everyone has gotten over it. He’s gotten over it too; his fingers no longer twitch to uncover the mask hidden in his trunk and it is not too nerve wracking to have Prince Chanyeol pass by on his way through the palace. That night becomes a far off dream and the world moves on. That is, until…

“Ah, Jongdae,” Junmyeon says when he finds him. “Go meet Kyungsoo in my office, he has a special assignment for you.”

Jongdae freezes.

“... I’m dead. I’m fired. Off with my head,” he says as soon as Junmyeon is out of earshot.

“It was an honor serving alongside you,” Baekhyun tells him solemnly. Then he kicks him. “Get going, dumbass.”

He doesn’t actually know what to expect, in truth. Kyungsoo is the personal servant to the crown prince so any assignment from him is almost guaranteed to have to do with Prince Chanyeol.

He doesn’t _really_ think he’ll be fired. He’s pretty sure Kyungsoo doesn’t have the authority for that.

Kyungsoo is sitting at Junmyeon’s desk when Jongdae enters, writing out something with copious amounts of annotations. He glances up.

“Ah, Jongdae,” he say, then quickly scribbles another note. It’s so weird to suddenly not be stared at that Jongdae has a hard time finding relief in it. He’s still writing as he starts to explain.

“I’ll be on a brief leave, nothing serious. His Highness makes me take a vacation every year. I recommended you to fill my position in my absence.”

“What,” Jongdae mutters as his mind stumbles over the news. Kyungsoo’s position as in… oh no. “I couldn’t-”

But Kyungsoo proceeds before the words have time to work themselves out of his throat.

“You’ve done the work before I see, and His Highness doesn’t like to feel self important so I imagine it will be less work than other guests you’ve assisted. If you’ve no objections-”

“Why me?” Jongdae finally cuts in.

Kyungsoo glances up at him, his gaze pointed, his mouth a hard line, and Jongdae feels the accusation shoot right through his chest.

Then he carries on as if nothing happened.

“I’ve made an itinerary of tasks to expect-”

“Kyungsoo.”

“You know why,” he shoots back, practically glaring at Jongdae again for a moment before he smooths his expression. “Junmyeon approved the recommendation already and I’ve alerted His Highness, he will be expecting you come Monday morning.”

Kyungsoo stands and hands Jongdae the schedule, each task accompanied by copious notes as to His Highness’ preferences and habits. His head feels numb as he takes it and looks it over. Kyungsoo doesn’t bother waiting for his answer and moves past him towards the door.

“Maintaining a professional distance from the prince is your prerogative,” Kyungsoo stops to say, “but you’ve made your affections known and Chanyeol can’t stop thinking about it. It’s the least you could do to let him answer you.”

Then he leaves, and Jongdae is left alone with his memories and his dread, the forbidden taste of Chanyeol’s lips on his own lingering even still like a torturous reminder of his folly.

\---

He needs to do everything in his power to be as unremarkable as possible, Jongdae decides once the echo of Baekhyun’s laughter stops ringing between his ears and there is enough quiet in his head to think. As long as he downplays every aspect His Highness had admired about Chen, it would be impossible to draw any connection between the two of them. That means it is of the utmost importance that he never smiles.

… this is going to be excruciating.

Prince Chanyeol is already up when Jongdae knocks on his door early Monday morning. He’d been anticipating that, it was written in the annotations, _he won’t sleep in when I’m not there._ It seemed an innocuous note before Jongdae realized his call time is 5:00 am and His Highness is up _before_ that. It speaks of something deeper, mistrust or anxiety or something else Jongdae doesn’t know. Maybe he’ll find out in the next week.

Jongdae slips into the room and finds Prince Chanyeol slouched in a armchair by the window, partially dressed in simple trousers and a loose silk shirt that he hasn’t tucked in yet. His hair looks like it exploded in his sleep so at least he isn’t completely awake this early.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” Jongdae says quietly, unsure if he’s still supposed to keep his eyes down or if he’s expected to go about his tasks as if his charge is still asleep. He’s done the work before, sure, but never for a crown prince.

Prince Chanyeol glances up and makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat with a jump before slouching even further in his seat.

“I’m gonna kill Kyungsoo,” he mutters to himself before resetting himself to sit upright and running his hands through his hair in a futile attempt to tame it. “Jongdae, right?”

It’s Jongdae’s turn to jump in surprise. Since when did a crown prince have reason to know his name?

“I’m sure Kyungsoo gave you a whole book of things to do,” he says with a smile without waiting for Jongdae to have an answer.

“Just a small bible, Your Highness,” Jongdae offers.

Prince Chanyeol tries to stifle a laugh but it still snorts out through his nose and it takes everything Jongdae has not to grin from ear to ear.

“I’ll leave you to it,” the prince tells him. “If anyone asks, I’m still dead to the world.”

“Of course,” Jongdae says, and gets to work.

His Highness stares out the window as Jongdae works, making it easy to move about the room without worrying about being watched or their eyes accidentally catching. That’s one thing he’s perhaps irrationally worried about; he doesn’t think his eyes are anything remarkable and the mask was distracting enough that the prince probably doesn’t remember what he actually looks like, but Jongdae fears that if their eyes catch in any meaningful way that he’ll be found out.

Jongdae bustles about the room; fresh water for the basin, fresh flowers for the vases, gathering up last night’s laundry to bring downstairs while he grabs a coffee cart. Prince Chanyeol looks a little more put together when he gets back, fresh faced with damp but more well behaved hair. Jongdae moves on to making the overlarge bed (bed before clothes, Kyungsoo had been very particular) but now that His Highness is more awake he also seems to be more aware of Jongdae’s presence and now they keep glancing at each other, Chanyeol fidgeting like he’s waiting for something.

Jongdae recalls a note at the top of the list; _He likes to talk_. He takes a deep breath.

“Did you… enjoy your birthday, Your Highness?”

Prince Chanyeol lights up immediately, whether he’s eager to talk on the subject or just eager for conversation, Jongdae can’t be sure. It’s cute all the same.

“Oh, yes! It was beautiful! The decorations were all so great, it made-” he stop, falters, and his smile falls. He’s silent for a moment, lost in his head before he looks back up, forcing a smile.

“The masquerade was Kyungsoo’s idea, you know. He knows I hate when people are judged for their station.” Then he turns slightly, like he wants to look away but he’s still glancing at Jongdae, expectant. “I hear we had the whole staff working, but did anyone manage to slip away and attend?”

“Yes, quite a few of us actually,” Jongdae answers and, god, it is so hard not to smile at him when he thinks about how His Highness probably changed the guest list specifically for the castle staff. “I told my friend he should dance with the chancellor.”

Chanyeol’s eyes suddenly go wide for some reason.

“Did this friend have a blue diamond mask?” he asks.

Oh no. How could Jongdae be so foolish, he had given Baekhyun the mask, of course Prince Chanyeol saw it, of course he had kept a lookout for Jongdae after he’d rushed off like he did. Jongdae tries to play it cool, to play off his massive oversight with nonchalance but he really didn’t think this far ahead. So much for staying inconspicuous.

“… He did. So you saw him?”

“I saw two people in that mask,” His Highness tells him. There’s a pause, brief but pointed, before he asks, “Did you dance with someone?”

“I had to cover for Baekhyun,” Jongdae answers with an ease he’s luckily been perfecting for the last few months. It’s the answer he’s been giving everyone.

Not only does Prince Chanyeol buy it, but it completely distracts him too. He tilts his head, his mouth pouting in thought.

“Baekhyun? That sounds familiar… Oh!” The smile is back. “He’s the one that works with you all the time, right? The one who’s always messing around?”

Jongdae feels like he just tripped and fell face first onto the floor. It’s weird and disarming to be noticed, to be remembered in this light when it’s part of his job description to be forgettable.

“Yes, I’m stuck with him, it’s insufferable,” Jongdae jokes with a shaky laugh.

By the time he realizes that was a completely inappropriate thing to say Chanyeol is already laughing. Jongdae glances over to see him smiling delightedly, as if he’s inordinately pleased to be a part of the conversation. It’s intoxicating, making His Highness look this happy, letting his guard down and getting these results. It’s just like at the ball, when they were two equals in masks, being themselves and enjoying a celebration. He’s seen how dangerous this feeling can be.

But still, he asks, “And who did you dance with, Your Highness?”

Jongdae watches Prince Chanyeol’s face as it falls, sees his eyes go distant as his mind returns to the ball and the dance and it’s so obvious from the look on his face that he still thinks of it often, that he hasn’t forgotten a single detail from that night.

“I wish I knew…” he says with a quiet voice, as much to himself as to Jongdae.

Jongdae remembers every detail too, cherishes every memory deep within his heart. Maybe that’s what makes him open his mouth and ask what might just be the dumbest question of all time.

“... What was he like?”

\---

“God, Jongdae, how are you such a masochist,” Baekhyun asks when he finally recovers from laughing his ass off. “You’re just gonna sit there and listen to him wax poetic about you without saying anything?”

Jongdae scoffs.

“What can I say?” he asks with an incredulous laugh.

“He’s looking for you.” Baekhyun points out.

“He’s looking for a stranger who could be anyone,” Jongdae counters.

Baekhyun doesn’t argue immediately. He simply frowns at Jongdae for a moment, considering him.

“Man, you really snuffed out your own heart after getting that dance,” he finally says.

“… What?”

“You’re so concerned with being less, with being a servant,” Baekhyun explains, waving his hand in little circles as if it painted a clearer picture. “You sound fucking miserable.”

“I’m just doing what I have to to get over it,” Jongdae tells him, trying to turn back to the large vase he’s supposed to be polishing.

“You always used to daydream. What’s the harm in… continuing to daydream?”

Jongdae stops. He never used to worry about “getting caught,” never considered what having his feelings known could mean, never wasted his happiness by focusing on the impossibility of it all. Baekhyun has a point; his disguise worked and no one knows he’s even acted on his feelings. Maybe no harm no foul.

Jongdae frowns at himself.

“Stop that,” he says. “Stop doing that thing where you make your bad ideas sound like good ones.”

“All my ideas are good!”

\---

The funny thing about remembering his day dreaming is that it makes him more aware of Chanyeol doing the same thing. He just gets stuck every so often; he stares out windows, sighs down at his hands, smiles absently when he should be paying attention to someone speaking. It’s the telltale signs of love sickness, the same symptoms Jongdae has been dealing with since he fell for the prince himself.

He’s daydreaming right now, slowly shrugging out of his evening clothes while Jongdae waits to take them and put them away. It’s his last task for the night, and Prince Chanyeol has been distracted enough that it’s been easy to be inconspicuous so far.

But he’s not his usual self. Neither of them are.

_He likes to talk._

__

__

_What’s the harm in continuing to daydream._

“What if it were someone on the staff?” Jongdae asks him suddenly.

Prince Chanyeol perks up, turns to him with wide eyes and gapes for a moment as his mind catches on to the context. Then he latches on like a hound on a scent.

“You know him?!”

“Just hypothetical!” Jongdae assures him in a hurry. “I’m curious, you know, as a staff. What would you do?”

Chanyeol opens his mouth like he already knows the answer but then he stops, seems to think it over, then sinks heavily into a chair. It’s a long moment of silence, more curious than anything.

“… I don’t know what I would do,” he says to no one. “But--but that’s why I want to find him. To find out.”

“To… pick up where you left off after the party?” Jongdae suggests.

“Something like that,” Prince Chanyeol answers with a flush to his cheeks.

Jongdae hums as he thinks about that, about what it would mean to “pick up where they left off.” It had been a simple thing, kissing in the garden with no one around. It would be a simple thing to kiss now, alone in his bedroom at the end of the day. Nothing else about that night is easy to replicate though, there’s nothing else about that night that they could go back to.

“But no matter what you did it would have to be a secret,” Jongdae points out.

Prince Chanyeol outright pouts at him.

“Why would it have to be a secret, I don’t care-” he tries to say, but Jongdae isn’t having it.

“You can’t be seen consorting with someone of a lower class, Your Highness,” he reminds him. “Our entire government hinges on the belief that you are inherently better than everyone.”

“… oh, I guess that is how it works.”

His pout is still there, but it’s shifted, actual frustration mixed in with his petulance.

“Maybe you could get away with a few people in the palace knowing, but when the wrong person finds out, it’ll just spread.”

Prince Chanyeol chews on his lip as he thinks for a moment, then looks up at Jongdae expectantly and asks, “What if I dressed him up? No, wait, better, what if I gave him land? Made him a lord?”

Jongdae isn’t sure how he ended up an authority on secret relationships with royalty, but Prince Chanyeol is looking at him like his is the only opinion that matters, like Jongdae can help him make this happen. And maybe he is better qualified than His Highness even realizes considering they are technically talking about _Jongdae._

But god, he doesn’t want to be a landowner, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

“And if your mystery boy already enjoys the life he has?”

“Oh,” Chanyeol says. Then, “Does he?”

“I don’t know who it is, Your Highness.”

Prince Chanyeol isn’t exactly satisfied with that answer, of course, but he’s not listless anymore. He lets the conversation fall away so Jongdae can finish his last few tasks, a bit more energy to his posture, more focus to his thoughts.

The problem with talking about this mutual daydream is that Prince Chanyeol keeps thinking about it. It’s as if he never stops daydreaming. More than that, it’s as if he never limits himself to thinking it has to stay a dream. Now that Jongdae has initiated a few conversations, painted himself as receptive to talking with His Highness, Chanyeol is eager to bounce ideas off him. And it seems he has a new idea every time they see each other.

“Ok, listen, I just don’t get married and no one knows why. Yoora is already getting married so if she has an heir then everything is fine.”

“So you’d just leave yourself open to petty rumours and get found out anyway.”

“Rumours don’t destroy kingdoms.”

“They absolutely do, especially if you’re going to leave yourself vulnerable to the worst kind!”

They aren’t necessarily good ideas.

“I’ve got it, I’m brilliant, listen to this: we elope.”

“Oh lord.”

“I know there are at least two vacation homes that people don’t know we have, I just live there happily with my husband after I fake my own death.”

“Ooooh lord, so you’re going to make your family embezzle money to support you?”

“We could work!”

“What work would we do! … I mean, you, you and your theoretical husband.”

Jongdae does what he can to bring Prince Chanyeol back down to earth, to keep his ideas grounded within the confines of reality. Once the ideas stop stressing him out it almost becomes like a game and Jongdae has to hide his laughter behind fake groans as Chanyeol excitedly seeks his approval.

“Let’s back up, okay, let’s say you find your mystery boy and you’re both in love or whatever. What do you do when you’re together? Like, as a first step before you declare yourself as a monk or whatever you’re doing.”

“Kiss him.”

_“Your Highness.”_

“That’s step one! Ok, first, very important step.”

Prince Chanyeol opens up as they spend more time together as well. His enthusiasm and energy reminds Jongdae of the side of him he saw at the ball, wide eager eyes that see the good in all things. He even starts sleeping in after a few days, and Jongdae has to actively start waking him up, so easy is his sleep under Jongdae’s care. Prince Chanyeol looks carefree when he’s alone with Jongdae, like he looks forward to continuing the game, convinced that his next idea will be the best one yet.

But as the week draws to a close, and Kyungsoo’s time off with it, Jongdae fears Prince Chanyeol could become stuck on this daydream, trapped in an endless cycle of wishing for things he can’t have without seeing what he does. Jongdae has a firm enough grasp on reality to keep himself from getting lost in his hopes but Chanyeol is still so enraptured by the game, with chasing someone with no name and no face who Jongdae had laid to rest long ago.

It was cute at first but now it’s as if he’s stolen his own spotlight.

“Do you actually want him to like you?” Jongdae asks him on the last night of his service. It seems a fitting time to end the game, to get Chanyeol back to normal for when Kyungsoo returns to his side the next morning.

Prince Chanyeol pauses to look up at him from where he’s sat at the edge of his bed, pouting quizzically.

“Some person you’ve never met,” Jongdae clarifies. “Do you actually return his feelings after meeting him once?”

Chanyeol stops and stares at nothing for a long moment as he thinks it over, always taking Jongdae’s questions and considering them seriously before answering. His face grows sombre as he reaches his conclusion.

“… No. No, I guess I don’t. He… reminded me of someone,” he admits after a moment with a flush to his cheeks. He takes a small breath to collect himself before forcing a small smile to look up at Jongdae with. “I guess I just like pretending it could be him.”

He should have known there was more to it than just ‘a stranger kissed me on my birthday.’ Perhaps Chanyeol had been trapped in a daydream long before ‘Chen’ came along, waiting for someone even a crown prince can’t have. Jongdae knows a thing or two about that, about wishing for the impossible, but Prince Chanyeol has let this daydream hold him back for long enough. Jongdae sits beside him, carefully close to the edge of the mattress.

“Then isn’t it better to let him stay hidden? So you can focus on the people you do know.”

“I guess…” His Highness relents. Then his smile turns sweet, hopeful.

“I know you now.”

Jongdae’s heart stops. His breath gets caught on the affection in Chanyeol’s eyes, and his thoughts drown in recognition, in the feeling of Chanyeol seeing him, remembering him, knowing him. It’s definitely not in his job description, but it is everything he’s ever wanted. He’s only ever wanted the prince to see him.

“... Yeah. You do,” he whispers, eyes unconsciously glancing down.

This is a familiar stillness. A familiar closeness. A familiar scene of a gap closing, swept up in a dream made real.

A familiar mistake.

“I forget myself!” Jongdae says suddenly, breaking away and leaping back up to his feet to put several steps between them. “You really need to stop being so friendly, Your Highness.”

Prince Chanyeol pulls himself up by his bedpost, reaching out as if to catch Jongdae before he can get too far out of reach.

“Jongdae, I…” he starts but then he hesitates. His fingers catch on empty air and he drops his hand. He laughs at himself faintly as he clings to the post, leaning heavily against it.

“No. I forget myself too,” he says. He looks up at Jongdae again with another forced smile. “I’ll tell Kyungsoo to pass on rave reviews.”

Jongdae can’t help the breath of a laugh himself. “It has been a pleasure, Your Highness,” he tells him.

He lets himself smile openly and Chanyeol looks at him with… it’s not recognition, but something else, that familiar longing he once caught a glance of before the party even began.

Jongdae does as he should and drops his eyes, bowing and excusing himself for the night.

He did it. He got the prince off his trail and he survived the week. He should be relieved, they should both feel lighter without carrying around this masked man madness anymore but he just feels worse. And Chanyeol looked so downtrodden. He could finally start looking forward, but with nowhere to put his affection maybe it weighs heavily on him.

_It’s not my place,_ Jongdae reminds himself as he strides back to the servants halls and his room, _I can daydream all I want but it’s not my place to act on them._

Baekhyun isn’t there when he gets back to their shared room, but for some reason the mask _is_. He hasn’t looked at it in weeks but it still shines the same way it must have the evening of the prince’s birthday. It sits innocently on the corner of his bed, facing the door like it was waiting for him.

Every happy memory he’d tried to suppress comes flooding back to him, holding the prince’s hand, dancing with him, being the reason for Chanyeol’s smile. But the mask had been a wall, an excuse to call the whole night a fairytale, the baseless source for all of Jongdae’s confidence.

Jongdae picks up the mask and stares at it, feeling lost. He remembers how Chanyeol had looked at him when he wore it, his eyes dazzling like they were caught in the same daydream. He thought he had been content to leave it like that, to call it a dream and be done with it, but then what had the last week been? Looking at the mask now all Jongdae can see is Chanyeol sitting next him with no mask or serving tray between them, the crown prince looking at him with a wish in his eyes, knowing his own reflected the same.

He hadn’t wanted to be found because he didn’t want to face the what if's, the uncertainty. And His Highness had no plan for what he would have done with a secret like his, didn’t have an answer for the stranger he had met in a sparkling blue mask who had kissed him that night.

But he had searched for Jongdae anyway. He had wanted to take his daydreams into his own hands and make them real.

Jongdae stares down at the mask, at the culmination of all his daydreams, of his hopes and wishes, dreams that he lived, dreams that he has in his hands, that _Chanyeol_ wants to make real.

He stands and rushes from the room. He doesn’t even bother closing the door behind him.

There’s no precedent for what he wants. But, Jongdae reasons as he races through the halls, literally runs back towards the prince’s chambers before he can talk himself out of this, there’s also no precedent for a prince who invites castle staff to his birthday. There’s no precedent for a royal who talks to everyone like they’re friends. Who is Jongdae to say what’s impossible in this case? Who can know what will really happen?

He bursts into Chanyeol’s room without so much as a knock and finds His Highness flopped back onto his bed like he hasn’t moved since Jongdae left. His limbs all flail wildly as he sits up at the intrusion and when he spots Jongdae at the door his mouth drops open and he just stares like he’s paralyzed. Jongdae steps inside and closes the door behind him before speaking, leaning heavily on the knob to hold himself up.

There was one question he hadn’t asked, one scenario they didn’t talk through.

“What if it was me?” Jongdae blurts out. “What if I only agreed to wear that ridiculous coat because I knew it would get you to notice me? What if I was the one who took you to the courtyard festival because I don’t know how to dance properly?”

“What if…” he trails off, looking down at the mask in his hand, at what was supposed to just be a keepsake, at this evidence he should have done away with. Then he looks back up at Chanyeol who also stares, wide eyed, at the mask.

“What if I only kept this stupid mask because, deep down, I want you to notice me again.”

Chanyeol’s expression doesn’t change as his eyes dart back up to Jongdae. He doesn’t look like he’s in any state to speak. Instead, he just stands and moves across the room in wide strides to take Jongdae’s face with both hands and kisses him.

Step one, just like he said.

Jongdae surges up to meet him, his arms wrapping up around his back to fall into the embrace, and just like that they are back under the stars at the ball, just two boys who have been whisked away by their dreams in the night. But there is something different in this kiss, something very unlike the soft, hesitant brush of lips they shared at the ball. This is a whirlwind, a release. There is hunger and relief in this kiss, Chanyeol doesn’t kiss like he wants to be whisked away this time, he kisses like he’s been craving this, like he’s been holding himself back for so long, dying to do it himself. He kisses Jongdae like he’s known him all along, like he’s seen him all along, like the mystery man was just an excuse and it was always Jongdae that he noticed.

The mask falls to the ground. Jongdae doesn’t need it anymore.

Chanyeol breaks away to press their foreheads together, his hands still cupping Jongdae’s jaw as if holding up something precious.

“What if…” he starts, breathless, “I had to start requesting other people to help at game night because I had such a big crush on you?”

Jongdae’s jaw drops.

“… That’s not true,” he says with a disbelieving breath.

Chanyeol just laughs at himself. “It is, I’m a mess,” he says. He pauses to simply look at Jongdae, to brush his thumb across his cheek.

“Step one was kiss you, step two is to convince you that you’re worthy. Whatever happens, whatever we decide, you’re worth it.”

Jongdae swallows down his all too familiar arguments. His prince is stubborn in this regard and in this light, in this closeness, it makes Jongdae’s own stubbornness waver.

“When you say it it makes me want to believe it,” Jongdae admits.

“You should.”

He wants to, he really does, but he just doesn’t yet. Even holding Chanyeol like this again is more than he can fathom. Step two will take time. He lets it be for now.

“… So what’s step three?” he asks instead.

“You decide,” Chanyeol tells him.

Jongdae lets a cheeky grin spread across his face. He’s been dreaming of this for long enough, he has plenty of ideas.

“Step three is kiss me again,” he says.

The breath of their laughter mingles as their lips come together once more, letting their kisses indulge in the happiness of shared feelings as they collapse together onto the bed in a fit of giggles.

Jongdae knows it won’t be easy, it won’t be the fairytale of his daydreams right away. They just spent the whole week talking about only a few of the obstacles they’ll have to face, of course it won’t be easy. But he also spent the week listening to the conviction behind every one of Chanyeol’s wild ideas. He knows, wherever they go from here, that Chanyeol is ready and willing to make this work.

For now, they’re still at step one. The real step one is knowing. They can take each step as they come, together they can strive for the wish they keep in both their hearts.

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter.](https://twitter.com/ExoMomFriend)


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